Draco Diaries
by SLASH Co
Summary: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades from the characters POV. SLASH. Part 6 up! Naked!Draco and Invisible!Harry, notes in diaries and a couple hits the rocks...
1. Part 1

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Possible pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm. **Rating:** PG-13 **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. 

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**September 12** Dear Diary, Heh, just using that opening phrase makes me want to cringe. Who would have thought that I, the great Draco Malfoy, would ever be writing in a diary?! Childish schoolgirls and loveless female teenagers are the only ones who would waste time with these. Yet here I am, sitting on my bed late on a Saturday night, trying out my skills at creative writing. In a way it feels good, to get my thoughts on paper. The excuses for roommates are far from any help when I want something off of my mind. Crabbe and Goyle can barely hold a regular conversation, let alone a deep one. And what of the rest of my Slytherin 'pals'? Just as useless I fear. Sure Pansy Parkinson would be more then willing to sit and listen, but unless it's about the daily gossip or who's shagging whom, she really won't care. Besides, just looking at that ugly face makes me want to gag sometimes.

The Slytherin gals are far from beautiful. Unfortunately we lost that bet to the Gryffindors, whose ladies can be quite foxy, though I loathe admitting it. Blaise is the only hot one around here, and while I'd love to get my hands on that sweet-ass of hers she'd be far from willing to give it up. Nothing but cheap talk from a cheap tease. Marcus Flint used to be quite the guy for petty chat; he could always turn it around to something funny, in a smutty off-key kind of way. Yet he's gone from Hogwarts now, graduated two years ago, and it took him long enough to do it too. Had his parents not been pumping the school with money, he'd have been kicked out long ago. My Slytherin pride can only last me so long when I am faced with such petty allies as these. The adversaries however are good enough to keep that small flame burning inside of me, and now I take every chance I can get at beating those over-pretentious morons who call themselves wizards. With their lack of skills they should be thrown among the muggles to live their lives in misery and horror; nothing would suit them better then their own kind. Of course that's just my bitter anger talking; if their skills were so slack then how can they continue to beat me? A thought that causes shivers to course down my spine and anger to bubble through my blood. No matter, one of these days I will get my full and utter revenge upon those floundering imbeciles, and then they'll regret the day that they ever laughed at a Malfoy. Sincerely, (which sounds just as bad as Dear Diary) **Draco Malfoy** **September 16** Dear Diary,_(must find a new opening, this one so used and cliché. Also it is far from masculine)_ Right now, my anger is my main emotion. Stupid Weasel; putting me in the hospital wing for two days. I'm so sorry I started the truth that Granger's a fucking mudblood; well, actually, no I'm not. Did he really need to try and turn me into a toad though?Idiot, he managed to turn my hair green, and make my fingers and toes webbed. I swear Madam Pomfrey was laughing the whole time she was fixing me up. Who would have thought that it would require surgery to remove the skin between my toes. I will get that lousy low-life Weasley back. Couldn't report this case earlier of course, it would mean I would have to tell either Goyle or Crabbe that I kept a journal. I shudder to think of the rumours that could be spread if either one of the blockheads mentioned it. Although, I doubt very much anyone would understand what they said, it was better to play it safe. I can't have my reputation tarnished, and if Potter found out all would be hell. I relish Potions class every day now, knowing that after seven years Snape still favors me over Potter, and that he purposely tries to fail him. I see no reason why that crackpot Dumbledore keeps Potty here at school. He's a disgrace. No good to the wizarding cause. And I can say little more for the company he keeps. Ugh, am too angered to write. I will leave this entry with these last words. I *will* get Weasel and the rest of his friends back. They will pay. Sincerely, **D. M.** **September 20th** Diary; Midnight, on a Sunday night, and here I am sitting in an abandoned classroom on a window ledge. Funny how the moon affects ones perception of things. There is an almost full moon tonight, and with a cloudless night sky the rays seem to light up everything. And while I'm sitting here I can also see the figure of one Gryffindor prat out on the Quidditch pitch. The moonlight's bouncing off his glasses, and he's got his broom with him. Who goes flying in the middle of the night? Someone with a death wish in all likelihood. Oh, well, good riddance. For some reason though, I get the feeling that he's done this before. A secret nightlife, where you can revel in the silence and obscure solitude it grants. Maybe I should come out here more often; easily beats listening to Vincent and Gregory snoring away as if they had run a marathon minutes before. 

_Draco stopped, and set his pen down on the page, and watched as Harry kicked off on his Firebolt, and whizzed around the stands. Draco sneered. "Poncy showoff." He diverted his eyes, and stared at his diary page, picking up the pen to chew on it, wondering what to write next. What thought to portray. Draco began to write again, a glazed expression crossing his face as the scratching of the pen rose into the air._

If Potter could see me now, watching him on the Quidditch pitch, I wonder what he'd say. Something stupid no doubt. Brains are not his forté. But then, who needs brains when you have know-it-all Granger to nag every piece of detail into your head? God, the mudblood is so annoying, and yet they let her be top of the year. But why am I wasting my time, my ink, and my paper with those dolts. It seems that it's becoming harder and harder for me to get my mind off that damn Boy Who Lived, and it's unnerving to say the least. A hatred this deep can only lead to something horrid.Lets just hope that's for him and not me. I think it's time that I just sat here in the moonlight to gather my thoughts. One can never think often enough, and I have too much on my mind to write. 

Confused, **D.M.**

***

_Harry Potter loved the feel of the wind through his hair, on his face. He picked up speed and did one amazingly speedy lap around the pitch. He dived into a Wronski Feint, which would of made Hermione scold him. He brought his broom level about a metre away from the ground. Hovering there for a moment, he scanned the pitch. Taking a deep intake of breath, he smiled as he lowered his broom and gently got off. Slinging the broom over his shoulder he headed towards the changeing rooms, where he soon picked up a deep crimson, leather bound book and an eagle quill. The diary and the quill had both been presents from Hermione (who had bought exactly the same for Ron) who insisted on them keeping track of their thoughts for some reason. Harry didn't mind, and he scribbled down the days date in the top right hand corner of the page._

Journal, What an exhilarating flight. I still find it hard to believe that after seven years I have only been caught on the pitch once. I think Dumbledore has something to do with it; he always gives me a sly sort of wink whenever I talk to him. Maybe I'm just lucky though. Still, flying in the moonlight is worth getting caught. It makes me feel free, and that I don't have to worry about Voldemort, or Malfoy (pretentious git; I didn't say what Ron did to him a few days ago...heh, he looked better as a semi-toad) or anyone else is a relief. Sometimes I wish I could just be a normal kid, living a normal life. Yet I know that that's impossible. Being a wizard isn't exactly normal, nor is it exactly reversible; not that I'd ever want it reversed. And that damned Rita Skeeter doesn't help the situation. She's ruined my semi-normal life many times with her reports of lies. After her year of 'sick-leave' she just couldn't wait to get back to the quick-notes quill. And though she kept her promise to Hermione, she always finds some way to make everyone look bad. Anyway, why do I want to spend my time writing about that dreadful Rita Skeeter?

It's only the third week of school and already Hermione is stressing over exams. She's going to drive us all mad one of these days. Ron just shrugs her off with his usual casual manner, which manages to piss her off to no end. Although they're a couple, they still argue like hell. It's tiresome, but somehow Seamus and Dean manage to egg them on, and Ginny just rolls her eyes, and 'tsk's'. And whenever they try to rope me onto their side...its nightmare. NTS: stay away from the couple. 

_Harry stopped and stretched, his back aching from being hunched over, and yawn escaping his lips. He quickly hunched back over the page, and ended off his entry._

While I love these now frequent nighttime escapes I still find it hard to wake up early the next day, and already I'm beat. Just holding the quill is making me tired, so I think it's time I ended this entry for the day. Exhausted, **Harry Potter**

***

**September 25th, Friday, 6am** Diary (Dropped the dear, it got too...wrong) I had to abandon my room for the night; just the sight of my roommates wanted to make me scream. Those dolts can't do anything right, and as a result of it my finest bed sheets have been ruined. I walk in last night to find Dumb and Dumber getting it on on my bed. You'd think they'd have the decency to find some secluded room or corner where only rats and vile creatures roam. Needless to say I burned my sheets and headed off to the lonely classroom, only to find that it had been cleared up and looks like it's going to be used in the near future.

In an attempt to find some solitude, I have had to transfigure a table from the dungeons into an armchair. At least I know I can rely on Snape not stepping in until after breakfast. Now, sitting here, I find a strange sort of emptiness descends into my skull and my thoughts have vanished, being replaced by a sweet sort of calm. Maybe it's just the lack of sleep, but either way it feels relaxing and I intend on using it to the its full advantage. _Draco settled back into the armchair and put his feet up on a desk in front of him, closing his eyes slightly, his pen drooping in his hand. A vision of Harry flashed across the back of his eyes, and he jerked out of his rest, looking confused. He put the pen back to the paper, and quickly scribbled down his final thoughts._ No matter where I go now, Potter always invades me; he's even crept into my thoughts and my dreams. I'd like to blame it on the hatred, but there's something telling me that it's something more...Enough of this though, it's nearly breakfast and I'm famished. Worried **D.M.**

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Footnotes: NTS stands for "Note to Self" The dates and days were matched by calendar, and should be correct ^.^;; (if indeed, we got the right year for 7th year, which would be 1998 by my calculations) 


	2. Part 2

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Possible pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm. **Rating:** PG-13 **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. 

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**Part Two**

_Sounds of footsteps hit the stone floors as three sets of feet ran down the hallway. Laughter rang through the air as the people jokingly chased after each other. "Where are we going again?" A deep-set voice called out breathlessly as one of the students lagged behind. "Honestly Ron, how many times do I have to tell you? We're going to see..." The voice of a teenage female was cut short as a loud 'oomph' hung in the air._

Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy clutching his chest where she had just ran into him. Ron stopped behind her, a smile growing on his face as the sight of Malfoy lying on the ground registered in his brain. The third person to be running came to a halt and helped Hermione off the ground. "Thanks Harry." she said in response. "Oh, brilliant Granger. Just when I get CLEAN robes, you go and dirty them. How about instead of talking to the overgrown lummox you call a boyfriend; you watch where you're going? Honestly," Draco said, pushing himself up off the floor and brushing himself down. Ron snarled; Draco smirked. "What? I didn't call her a mud-" Harry stepped in. "Watch your mouth, Malfoy," he hissed, before turning to his friends, "Come on lets go." Draco looked remotely hurt, and blinked as he acknowledged that he was hurt by being brushed off by Harry Potter. 

***

**Head Girl's Log, Tuesday October 5th.**

While the thought that all Prefects have to keep a diary is still a little heavy on my mind, I find it reassuring that in later years I'll be able to remember my final year with ease. Plus the fact that I got Harry and Ron to keep a journal too makes it seem a little less ridiculous. Today we had planned to go to 'the place' for the first time this year. Finding last year was a stroke of genius. Hogwarts has more secrets then we'll ever know I guess. A secluded grove seemingly out in the open, but only noticeable when one has crossed the entry. Needing to relieve some tension, I had figured we could use the peace; all of us. However, with our encounter with Malfoy today, Ron was more then insufferable. I have no idea why Ron lets that little ferret get to him so much. He's hardly worth the ground he walks on. I don't know how many times I've just told Ron to ignore him, that he likes to provoke people. But does Ron listen to me? No. Can't listen to someone sensible can we? Harry has learnt to shrug Malfoy off, thank god. If he didn't; then both he and Ron would've beaten Malfoy to a bloody pulp by now. It's not worth the detention, but at least then they'd finally be satisfied. I don't need that kind of Neanderthal satisfaction though. Just knowing that for through all of our six years at Hogwarts, I have beaten Malfoy to the post and come top of the year each time, making him come second. That'll teach him to go around calling me a mudblood. No body messes with Hermione Granger. 

_Hermione stopped her writing for a moment and glanced over what she had just written, a small sigh escaping her lips. She bent down over the book once more, a baby blue leather with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the front and the Gryffindor crest shining on the back, and let the ink seep into the rich, creamy pages._

Once again though I have strayed away from my Head Girl duties and am writing about my own personal thoughts and ambitions. Personally I find that Dumbledore doesn't mind, but duties are duties. After calming Ron down at our secret spot, I was called off to another meeting, which was just as dull as the others. Who cares about how long the grass is on the Quidditch pitch? No one walks on it anyways, they're always flying in the air. More series of detentions were passed through to me and I was surprised to find out that Ginny had been punished for disrupting class. When I went to ask her about it, all she could do was shrug. Poor girl, her break up with Colin Creevey must have been hard on her. Maybe, next time, she shouldn't just base her relationship on one simple thing (in this case, it was one simple someone; Harry). I keep telling her to ask Harry out, but she keeps stressing she no longer likes him like 'that', and has her eyes on someone else. I can't seem to weasel out whom that person is though, and it's extremely frustrating. You'd think with my grades I'd at least be able to find out the object of her affection. Alas, I never was very good with people. She'll tell me in due time, but until then I'll keep trying to figure it out.

Harry is acting a little weird these days, and I can't help but notice that he's been eyeing the Slytherin table a little more then usual. I hope he hasn't fallen for that awful Blaise. What a nightmare. Yet I somehow get the impression that he's not looking consciously; almost as if he doesn't realize he's looking over there. Maybe he's looking at Malfoy. Ha! Just the thought makes me laugh, though their hatred seems to have built in the past few years, which scares me. I don't want Harry to go off the deep end of hatred and hurt Malfoy, seriously. Not that I'm bothered about Malfoy's health, but I don't want to see Harry damage his future. Maybe he thinks that Malfoy has finally joined the Dark ranks or something, and is trying to figure out the best way to expose him. Harry seems bent on trying to avoid You-Know-Who though. He wants a normal life. Not that I blame him, but he really seems to be the only person brave enough to go up against the Dark Lord. I don't know how he does it. My god, look at the time. I have a transfiguration essay to finish for next week and I have barely started. I may as well get that done in my free now. Later entries to follow. Signing off (seems a bit lame, but McGonagall insists we end all entries with this. Someone's been reading to many detective books) **H. G.**

***

**October 5th** Diary; Damn. Damn. Damn. Just had to get that out, and it was for reason I refuse to write down, as they are just too warped to comprehend.

Granger walked into me today, stupid bint. She elbowed me in the chest, and didn't even say sorry. And I got her mudblood germs on me too! My chest still hurts and I can see the forming of a bruise from that stupid girl's mistake. How one like her gets to be Head Girl I'll never know. And that damn Weasley just standing there chuckling away. Laugh while you still can Weasel. At least Potter had the smarts to leave; something I would have thought incapable from him. Oh well, my sardonic wit can be saved for another day. I asked Professor Snape if there was any possibility of myself getting my own room, so I don't have to spend my time with the drooling idiots I have for dorm mates. He gave me an odd look, then closed his eyes. Talking with his eyes closed, I realized that Finch-Fletchly had 'accidentally' forgotten to tell me that prefects got their own rooms. After telling me the password and giving me directions to my new room I immediately left, fuming from the lack of respect I until now unknowingly received. I want to wring Finch-Fletchly's scrawny little neck. My father will most certainly be hearing about this. No one has any right to do this to a Malfoy. Anyway, at least I can finally get the solitude I deserve. Unfortunately, some stupid little creature put my room across from Granger's of all people! I'd rather have a simpering little 6th year prefect bugging me, but oh no. I get know-it-all Mudblood. I just hope her and Weasley...keep it down. Ugh, the very thought makes me sick! At least I get a decent view of something from this room. The change rooms are right outside the window, and I've noticed more then one female member of the Quidditch Team being a little less cautious then they should. Of course I also saw Potter once, which doubtless to say, more then scarred me for life. He does have great muscle definition though. Oh, god, please don't tell me I complimented Potter. But seriously, where'd he get so...toned? Surely Quidditch alone can't do that to you, or else I'd be ripped...not saying that I'm not, me being the sexy thing that I am. Maybe its part of the saving the world. But, I'm not so egoistic that I need to go off and save the world, and go "Oh, look at me! I have a big old scar" 

_Draco stopped and rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the image of Harry's body from his conscious. He shivered slightly and looked out the window from his window seat. Down below, he could see some first years waiting anxiously by the Quidditch change rooms. "Potter must be inside" he mumbled to himself as he scanned the rest of the surroundings. The wind was causing the trees to sway back and forth, casting off an ominous appearance. He turned back to his diary._

Potter's such a show off, and everyone feels so sorry for him because of the whole orphan deal. I have yet to see a time when he isn't mentioned in the Daily Prophet. As my father has assured me many times, Potter can't defeat the Dark Lord. Not really. My father also has the insane idea that I'm going to follow in his footsteps, and become a death eater. I just don't see myself doing that, my dreams always been to design racing brooms. But no one would know any of my dreams, since I never told anyone. And why would I? It's not like they'd understand.Another advantage to this diary I guess.

Prefect's diaries are a load of crap in my opinion, but now I'm not too sure. If they think I'll end entries with 'signing off' though, then they're sadly mistaken. My hand is cramping up, so I think I'll leave it at that. Ta **D.M.**

***

_Hermione cast a quick look at the door again. "Where's Harry?" She hissed at Ron. The boy gave a nonchalant shrug and drifted back into his daze. Double potions with the Slytherin's, and both Harry and Snape were late. Hermione hoped Harry got there first..._

"Late, Potter?" "Sorry sir." Came from just outside the door. "I would think that someone as, **popular**, as the great Harry Potter would at least try to be on time." A choking noise could be distinguished. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and if I catch you late again there will be detention involved." Harry followed the Potions master into the room and hurried over to take his seat next to Ron. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. He looked sheepish. "Today, we are starting a new project that will require great skill, and since I doubt the abilities of most of the class," Snape looked over at the Gryffindors and a few of the dumber Slytherin's, "I will be putting you in pairs myself to stop further incapability's from growing." Hermione glanced at Ron and moved closer to him, hoping Snape would pair them up. She was smart, right? And he did need help, no? Snape looked their way and smirked. "Granger, you will be paired up with...Zabini." Hermione's mouth fell open as she looked at the girl sitting on the other side of the room, just as equally shocked as herself. "That HO?!" Hermione couldn't help but squeal. "50 points from Gryffindor and if I hear that kind of language again I will be talking to Dumbledore," Snape said icily. "Finnigan, you'll be with Crabbe; Weasley, you're with Goyle; Thomas, you're with Parkinson; Draco with Potter." He continued to pair off the class as the muttering of anger and disappointment grew in the air. Sadly, the trio parted, Harry trudging over to sit with Malfoy, who looked rather smug, Ron going to Goyle, a sense of impending doom luring over him. Hermione went to sit with Blaise, who glared at her for a while. "Ho, am I?" "Er..." They began to get out the ingredients listed on the board. "I didn't really mean ho...it's just that, well, you know you do kind of put out a...ho-ish air..." Blaise snorted beside her. "Hun, do you know nothing of the flirtatious mystique? Rich, just rich. If you only knew; I'm far from a ho." Hermione could only stare. Was Blaise trying to be nice? "Uh...right. So, this potion is going to be complicated..." She was interrupted. "Don't worry about it, I'm more then qualified for the part." Hermione couldn't help but smile. "And I know you are too. I don't think I've ever properly introduced myself, what with the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry and all. Name's Blaise Zabini." "Hermione Granger-" "Head Girl and Top of the Year. You've built yourself quite the reputation too." Hermione chuckled, and started slicing the codsliver into neat, precise portions. "So...why are you being nice to well, a Gryffindor?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "Always helps to have allies in all the right places...and, well, you might be able to help me with something." 

***

**10/6/98** Inner Mirror; An unexpected turn has come at last. It seems that Granger's not as bad as she looks. QUITE the interesting girl, in fact. I think we may turn out to be friends sooner or later.

Finally Snape does something decent for once. Who would have thought, the Slytherin's banding with the Gryffindors, and enjoying it? I swear I saw Crabbe smiling, which is a feat of its own really, and Draco was spitting out far less insults by the end of the class then I would have thought. Plus, I got some juicy gossip out of Hermione about her roommates and fellow 'chums'. Who would have thought that Weasley was a biter?! Rather an interesting mental image. Hermione is also a much better conversationalist than any of the girls in my dorm. She doesn't always end a sentence with "and Parvati Patil was snogging Dean Thomas" or anything of the like. I'm hoping that she'll agree to help me out on a little project I'm planning, her being Head Girl it should make things so much easier for me. Not that I'm using her for that, she's really very nice. And I thought all Gryffindor's were snobby little who-sits who spent their time hating all Slytherin's. I guess we all have our turn abouts. I'm starting to look forward too next potions class, and I have a secret thought that some of the other Slytherins are too. 11 o'clock and all I can hear is Pansy snoring like a hound. I suppose that's my cue for bed, and the ink is beginning to die in my quill. _**Blaise**_

***

**6th Oct.** Journal; I'm too tired after Quidditch practice to go out tonight, so I'm just lying here, in my dorm, listening to Ron snore away on the bed beside mine.

Snape paired Gryffindors with Slytherins in today's potions class, which is a recipe for disaster, because on top of that, he put me with Malfoy. I was rather shocked to find though, that Malfoy was actually semi-decent. He didn't say a bad word about anyone for about half a lesson, but then Neville made something explode, and he started whining about dumb arse's and squibs. He doesn't project a very good self image. I'm still a little irked that he actually called me Harry once though, and even more irked that I almost called him Draco back. Maybe there's more to him then I at first had thought? Maybe it's time I threw in the towel for this hatred and tried to return the offer he once gave back in our first year on the train. Maybe that's just the damn Gryffindor genes talking through me. Who am I kidding? Friends...with Malfoy? Ron would kick my ass if he could read this now; I can always count on him to keep my path straight. Besides, Malfoy would more then likely refuse my hand of friendship, and bring me down in the process with insults, jibes, and an all round verbal assault that I would never live down. Yet still, seven years is a long time to hold a grudge. I think I should consult Hermione over this though; when I'm more myself and not near dead from exhaustion. Quidditch can really take it out of you sometimes. Especially when you're trying to get the new 3rd year Keeper to follow a complex game plan, and they can't even remember what ball the quaffle is. He came so close to getting hit by a bludger. I think we'll have to replace him. He seems a bit of an..., well, idiot. The team isn't as good as it had been the first few years, but really what did I expect? Everyone is trying extremely hard to fill in past member's shoes, and this is how I know we'll still win. Hard work and determination go a long way, which is more then I can say for the Slytherin team, which just seems to be buying more expensive equipment every year. Seamus says not to worry, but I secretly think that he's been spying on the players in the change room. He won't tell me whom he fancies now, so I'm thinking that it's highly embarrassing, extremely shocking, or just so full-blown already we'd be forced to beat him. Maybe we'll get one of the girls to get it out of him, he's a sucker when someone bats their eyelashes at him. Ron's started mumbling in his sleep, which usually a good sign for myself to think about getting some shut eye. **H.P.**

***

**October 6th** Diary Today was...how can I describe it right? Utter hell. To start things off, potions class. Usually I don't mind potions; I'm fairly good at it and get high grades, plus Snape favors me. But today, I could have killed him. Setting me up with Potty? That little wimp? The worst part is I didn't even find his presence all that bad; he was almost tolerable! I honestly think I'm loosing it, but I kept seeing...oh, how degrading, I kept seeing the image of him in the Quidditch change room! Those muscles and... Oh damn. There it is again.

And I called him Harry! I called Potty, **Harry**! I'll have to ask someone around here with half a brain to commit me to St Mungos. I reckon Blaise would be happy to do it if I asked her; she's one of those friends you could ask anything from. Of course, then I'd have to tell her why and well...she'd have a field day. Conniving little wench, she'd probably try to hook me up with that excuse for a wizard. Though that washboard stomach is more then appealing at the moment... Fuck. I need some time to think this out. While he does have an amazing body, so do I. And so do a lot of the other people in this school. Yet the deeply rooted hate just makes him seem all the more...attractive. I could perform an unforgivable on myself right now for writing that. Who knows; had I not been a total jerk, maybe I'd be friends with Potter by now. I loathe the mere idea of it, and shudder to think of what could have been. To think, that I could feel those well-shaped muscles...or just... taste his shaped lips. Shit. Time, I definitely need some time. My mind feels like it's on overload now. The feather pillow is looking more then tempting now, and my eyes are starting to droop. Later **D.**

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Footnotes: Yes. Blaise has an undecided sex, so made "it" a girl. Just for the sake of convenience. Added more hints, and some of the elusive plot to this chapter. Just for direction. We appreciate the reviews so far. Flames are just as welcome. _SLASH co. slash@clowsecrets.com_


	3. Part 3

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Possible pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm. **Rating:** PG-13 **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. 

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**Part 3**

**Oct. 18, Sunday 2am**

Dear Diary, I may be sounding a little a paranoid, but sometimes I think that my relationship with Hermione is just...going nowhere. I care about her a lot, but maybe we're only meant to be 'friends'. She's a great friend, but why does she still treat me like well...her best friend. We've been going out for two years now, and besides the kissing and -er- other activities, she still treats me the exact same way she treats Harry! I mean, she gave us both the same gifts for our birthdays (the diaries). Honestly, do you give your lover (in bold) a diary for their birthday?! Urrrrrgh. I've tried to bring this up before, but it's so hard to make it seem like I'm not clinging on to her, and I know that's not what she wants. My efforts seem to be one-sided. I'd talk to Harry about it, but he's got enough on his mind at the moment, what with Quidditch and all. In fact, he seems to be off in dreamland much more often. He just stops everything, and sits there staring. And I don't think its Quidditch anymore. Oi, maybe he has a girl on his mind... Or maybe he's just trying to figure out how to save the world. I've wondered what I'd be like if I had never been friends with him...if I had never sat with him on the train, or if he had never asked us how to get on the train. What would I be like without my best friend? If he were to die...what would I turn into? Quidditch thoughts are fine by me right now; speaking of which, our Quidditch game today was great. We won, thankfully. Ravenclaw played amazingly well, considering they lost Cho Chang when she left school. But their defense was weak, and we got the Quaffle through the hoops so many times. The game finished within half an hour, so it was short, but fast paced and action packed. We lost one of our chasers in the opening five minutes when a bludger flew into their leg. I heard the crack ten meters away. The celebratory match after was a good tension release too. Only recently did we all make it back to our dorm rooms. Neville, Dean and Seamus were nearly bursting with pride, and Harry almost collapsed when he got in, falling asleep immediately. Dean and Neville tortured Seamus for a while about his new 'fling' but soon gave up and they are all asleep now too. Poor Seamus. After the match though, I ran into Malfoy. I was going off to meet Hermione so we could walk up to Gryffindor Tower together, and maybe stop somewhere shady on the way. Good job Harry was swamped with swooning fan girls and admiring males to ask me where I was off too. Anyway, the little blond git tripped me up. And then he tried to push my head into the mud after he had. Was too fast for him though and managed to land a good kick right in his stomach (or was it his crotch? I can't remember). Unfortunately Flitwick happened to be walking by at the time and the fight soon ended. I hate Malfoy so much; I wish I could just wipe that smug look off his face and bring him down in front of the whole school! Malfoy pride would take a nosedive, and he'd have me to thank. I've pictured a revenge on him so many times now, and each time the picture gets better. Revenge is sweeter then honey; whoever said that I must fully agree. I think I'm going to bug Harry now until he lends me his invisibility cloak. Nothing like sneaking down to your girlfriends room in the middle of the night let's hope she thinks the same thing. **Ron**

***

**October 18** Diary; Hunching over a pillow, and seriously considering going to Madame Pomfrey. Not even my father has kicked me so hard in the gut before; I think Weasley bruised one of my major organs. Though I may have been slightly deserving, no one kicks Draco Malfoy. Had it been Snape who caught him, I'm sure Weasley would be up in Dumbledore's office now with a month of detention. Instead though, _I_ get the detention for, get this, provoking disorderly conduct!

Just because he's Potter's best friend makes him so special. DAMN POTTER! It always comes back to him some how! Its always Potter this, and Potter that. Why don't we just crown him King of the world?! hmmm, maybe he'd look hot as king, maybe I could be his w---Oh FUCK. I'm seriously considering St Mungo's now. The Potter Fantasies have been going over the top...I'm even DAY DREAMING of his lips on mine now. This is just twisted. I've tried to divert my mind from this horror with the luxury of my room, the new silk sheets I got, but that only makes me wonder what it would be like to have Potter on those silk sheets, sprawled seductively across them. I think I may go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her for some kind of medicine or potion to get rid of daydreams. This can't be healthy, and I have been looking a little pale lately...well...a little more pale then usual that is. My wandering mind often wanders to the thought of whether or not Potter has the same visions I do. He has been eyeing me a lot lately...but that could be due to the mixed potions classes. Speaking of which, Blaise and Granger seem to have become increasingly close. That could be potentially dangerous, Blaise knows most of the gossip around Slytherin, and would be more than happy to share it with, well, anyone. Although, whenever I've seen them in Potions, they seem to be doing a fair amount of talking between them. A shock to think Granger has anything interesting to say, really and though I'm not doubting Blaise's motives as to why she'd waste her time, I get the feeling that she's befriending that stuck up git who calls herself Head Girl. Perhaps I've misdoubted my own enemy, or rather, chosen an enemy unjustly. Now I think I really am sick. Hmmm, a memory charm seems overly tempting now. Maybe I'll go burn this diary and get Goyle to perform a charm. That way I'll get Potter out of my head, and as a bonus, end up in St Mungo's where I'd never have to worry about these petty contemplations ever again. Now I'm just being ignorant. If I asked Goyle to perform the charm, he'd probably dislodge my brain, the oaf. A troll could be smarter. I'm loath to admit that I have been shrinking from my Prefect's duties, and instead of writing the actions of the day, I have been writing about my own personal...opinions. Which all seem to revolve around that scar-faced 'star'. AGH! Prefect's duties can be done another day. Sigh, **D.**

***

_Clip clap, clip clap. Blaise's high heels stumbled as fast as they could over the stone floor. _

They were having a Hallowe'en dance; Dumbledore had revealed his plan only a few days previously, causing all the girls to go into uproar with outfit planning. Blaise slid to a halt as the garments of clothing hanging from her arms began to slip out of her clutches. The waves of silk, velvet, and even cashmere all began to tumble down in one motion. Blaise cursed under her breath and stooped down to pick them up. "He expects us to be ready for this dance in three days? Is he mad?" She continued to mutter to herself as she stood up from the floor and headed off to her previous destination. Stopping in front of a large Mahogany door she set the clothes down for a moment and took out her wand. **'Devilish'** The door slowly swung open and she stepped inside, jumping slightly as the door clicked shut behind her on its own free will The room she had stepped into was enormous, to say the least. Shiny tiles covered a corner of the room, where a bathroom lay. Curtains had been put up to act as temporary walls. Large windows with deep blue hangings lined the back wall, and sunlight streamed through them from the setting sun. A chandelier hung majestically from the ceiling, and torches were lit all along the walls, giving the room a cheery glow. Blaise noticed none of this and headed to the far right side of the room, where a bed, wardrobe, closet, and large mirror stood. This was her Prefect's room, and upon first seeing it she had almost danced a jig. Now it was all old news to her. Blaise settled down in front of her vanity table, and started applying her makeup with well-worded charms. She'd been through this many times; it was second nature. But doing it in a hurry and while trying to think up a plan was another thing. Already having mapped out an idea, and a purpose, Blaise was just doing the Slytherin thing by double-checking her plotting and refining the smaller details. Hermione wouldn't say no. She hoped anyway. And if she did? Well...failure was not an option , and thus she had not dwelled on that particular aspect She would find a way to persuade her newfound friend into seeing things her way. 

***

**Head Girls Log Hallowe'en October 31st**

For once I'm too excited to write about official 'things'. All I can think about is the Halloween ball, which is in a few hours time, and never have I been more excited and nervous at the same time! Ron wouldn't even let me see his dress robes for tonight, said he wanted it to be a surprise, and I must say I'm getting curious. I was slightly shocked when I found out that Harry didn't have a date for the ball; even more so when Blaise told me Malfoy didn't have one either. Out of all the people in this school, I would have thought that Draco Malfoy would have been the first one to get a date for this small party. Blaise just smirked when I told her this. We've become quite close in the past month, I'm impressed. Although...she always seems to want to tell me something, but then stops. Hmm, who'd of thought there was a Slytherin out there that couldn't keep their thoughts to themselves. I'm sure she'll tell me eventually, or else she wouldn't have breached it in the first place. Perhaps another thing to look forward too tonight. The party afterwards will be just as thrilling, I'm sure. Another surprise, finding out that Dumbledore had prepared a separate room from the ball for the seventh years to go too after the hallowe'en fireworks, which will be shot off at midnight, signifying the end of the dance. It should all be so much fun and ever so romantic. I can't wait to snuggle up with Ron and watch the fireworks actually. Maybe he'll come back to my Head girl's room after. Mind you, that would mean bumping into Malfoy on the way back. Someone with little intelligence puts his prefect room across from mine! And, I thought he'd never find it. After all, all the prefects that weren't Slytherin (and some that were) decided not to tell him he'd get his own room, and it was working out fine. I bet Snape told him. Snape honestly has no humour unless it's directed towards something malicious or cruel. Take the other day for example. I was walking to the library when I saw Harry run past me. He didn't see me, but kept on running to the end. Curious, I followed him to see where he was going. where he was going. I rounded the bend and saw Snape standing outside a door, wand in hand, and to my astonishment a smile on his face. Something was wrong. I hid behind a statue and watched as Snape opened the door with the wand and muttered something. A bright flash emitted from his wand, and I heard a startled cry, then Snape say "That will teach you to run in the halls, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor." He stalked off, smile still on his face, and a few minutes later an image of Harry floated down the hallway. When I saw the image, I nearly burst a lung from laughing, for Image Harry was walking down the corridor in the nude. Harry was not impressed. Had to promise Harry I wouldn't let anyone else know, but it was so funny to see him chasing his own image down the hall, that I had to tell Ron. So, now, everyone in Gryffindor knows. Colin Creevey keeps moaning that he didn't get a snapshot. At least Colin isn't as bad as he was his first year, and his photographs are looking pretty good. He took a picture of the Quidditch field last year in winter; it was breathtaking. Two solitary figures flying over the snow-covered grounds...Ron and Harry was so cold when they came in, but the picture really cheered them up. Oh, my. Time has simply whizzed by. Lavendar promised to do my hair (I don't know what I'm letting myself in for there) so I must be off, before she attacks me with a glitter charm or something. Signing off. **H.G.**

***

**October 31** Diary; Today is the _greatly_ anticipated ball. Why people think up these things I will never know; and what do I have to look forward to? Pansy Parkinson. That disgusting disgrace of a woman, if I can even call her that, has been hounding me all weak to go to the dance with her. As if I would take _her_.

I am a bit concerned though about my reputation. This is going to be the first social gathering where I don't have a date. Lets hope people will think up something extraordinarily juicy as to why not. I do love a diabolic rumor every now and then. If one doesn't get started by the end of the night, I think I'll start one myself. But what should I say? Something that doesn't make me come off bad, but manages to get everyone's jaws moving. Maybe even getting them to pay me a bit more respect. I suppose I could've gotten a date for the ball...Blaise looked like she may have asked me. Blaise is acting a little weird though; now she tells me that she's preparing for the dance with Granger! A mudblood! She's fraternizing with enemy! I always thought Blaise had more sense then I, but this? Though Granger is quite intelligent. If worse comes to worse I can always get my rumor from her...she's helped to grow Potter's reputation...a little mind bending, or reverse psychology. Slytherin could use another brain like mine, and she is more then up to par. Good god, why am I wasting my precious preparation time complimenting mudblood Granger? Who cares if she's a know-it-all? I strongly think that she's only top of all her classes because she's friends with that damn Potter. She may be smart, but her ally with that scar-faced loser is a huge asset. DAMN HIM! How my mind so quickly shifts. Taking Potter to the ball now...that would be an excellent rumor, and if he should end up naked on top of...oh god, why won't these thoughts stop? Why am I forever fantasizing about Potter now? I keep seeing his lithe body...and oh, I want to feel his lip on mine. ARGH! This has to stop. I need to clean my brain. I need to borrow one of Goyle's magazines and watch girls go at it with each other. Anything to get naked Potter out of my head. Naked Potter...oh. Naked Potter on silk sheets...with me...I'll go hang myself now, I think. D 

***

_Hermione left the seventh year Gryffindor girls dormitory with a relieved sigh. Though she had expected Lavendar to be more then a little enthusiastic, she had been overwhelmed by just how much she wanted to 'help'. Hermione had barely escaped with her eyebrows intact. **'I'll just clean them up a bit,'** still haunted her mind as she saw a maddened Lavendar come at her with a pair of tweezers._

Hermione picked up the bottom of her long dress and hurried off towards the great hall. As Head Girl she was supposed to help with the final preparations, and she was already late. Her shoes rang out sharply on the stone stairs as she rushed as fast as she could with wedge shoes on. Just as she was turning a corner, a hand shot out and pulled her into an empty classroom, causing a small cry of alarm to briefly fall from her lips. "Hermione. Its me Blaise." The classroom was rather dark, and Hermione could only just make out Blaise's pale face. "Oh," Hermione said, her breath escaping her after running, "hi. Er---whats going on? Did you really need to drag me into a classroom? I'm kind of in a rush, can't we talk while walking?" "No, not for this." Blaise said, a secretive look coming into her eyes. Hermione's curiosity peaked, and she relaxed a little after her small shock. "Nice dress." Blaise said casually. And it was. A deep-set emerald green velvet, the dress hung to Hermione's frame comfortably, showing off her figure. Spaghetti straps held it up, and the back was a series of criss-crossing emerald strings all the way down to the small of her back. "Thanks." Hermione replied, tapping her foot impatiently now. "You too...but what's so important?" Blaise just smirked. "What? Not going to demand where I got such an elegant outfit?" Hermione only stared. "Ok, ok." Blaise brushed one of her loose copper ringlets behind her ear, and looked Hermione in the eye. "I need your help with something," she said, fiddling with the slit in her dress. Her dress was a royal blue, made of what looked like the finest silk. A large slit ran all the way up her left leg, ending a few inches below her hips. The straps were spaghetti like Hermione's, but the dress was completely backless. She was wearing four-inch high heel shoes that matched the dress, and her hair was in loose ringlets, pinned up at the back, with little tendrils framing her face. "With what?" Hermione retorted, finding the look in her friend's eye more intriguing every minute. "Well, more like with some_one_. Two people to be exact; one of whom you are very close with. Don't worry not Ron!" She quickly added as she saw the look of doubt pass over Hermione's face. "I've got a plan for the party after the dance, but I need your help, and cooperation, for it to work." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Tell me what I have to do." "You have to persuade McGonagall and Dumbledore to allow all the 7th years to take part in rounds of the Truth dare game." Hermione blinked. "Why...?" Her brain went into overdrive. "Do you want to...get together...with...Harry?!" Blaise laughed; a high, merry sounding thing that didn't seem to suit the slightly evil girl. "No! Oh god, Hun. That was a good one! But you are on the right track. I want to get Harry together, but, not with me." She winked at Hermione, who could only glare back. "With another Slytherin, who I think has a little thing going on for him. Tell me though, has Harry been acting a little...odd lately?" "A little yes. But he's just thinking about well...actually I don't know, but Ron probably does. Where is this leading Blaise, because it sounds wrong." Blaise clapped a hand onto her shoulder and led her out of the classroom. "Well you ARE in a hurry, so I'll explain the rest on the way. Need some help with final preparations?" The two girls walked off towards the great hall, chatting amiably as Blaise unfolded the rest of her plan. By the time they entered the Hall, Hermione was smiling. Blaise had convinced her well. 

***

**31st Oct** Journal, The ball starts in 15 minutes, and all I've done so far is put on my dress robes. Ron insisted we get new robes for this, so two days ago we trudged off to Hogsmeade to get them. Ron looks good in his, Hermione should be stunned. Fred and George's business is making pretty good money, so the Weasley's have a little more these days, and it's about time too. My dress robes, on the other hand, are awful. Gryffindor red, they look hideous. Although Dean and Seamus seem to think that I'll kill the ladies with one glance when I enter the hall.

I can't wait to see who Seamus' new fancy is! He hasn't told us yet, kept telling us we'd find out tonight, and now I'm anxious to see who this mystery girl is. I wonder if she's even Gryffindor...Oh, maybe Seamus is ashamed and it's someone like Pansy Parkinson. Shudder. How anyone could like her I don't know. I'm surprised even Malfoy managed to stomach taking her to the fourth year Yule Ball. I'm glad to see that Malfoy has no date this year...though neither do I so maybe I shouldn't feel so good about it. Malfoy has been on my mind a lot lately, actually. I'm kind of worried. He's been such a pain that I can't seem to get him out. The constant 'mudblood' cracks and 'Weasel' jokes are getting on my nerves, and potions class is a chore. Even more so then usual, that is. Though I think the feeling from sitting close to Malfoy is a bit different then the feeling I get from the insults to my friends. Last night I woke up from a _nightmare_ that Drac----Malfoy snuck into Gryffindor Tower and got into bed with me, curling his arms around my body. And I kissed him! I said something, but I woke up disgusted, and I can't remember what was said. It's haunting, and I can't get rid of it. If I continue to have them, I might go to Dumbledore for help. That wasn't the first dream though, which scares me. Once during my midnight flying sessions I couldn't stop picturing Malfoy sitting behind me on the broom, wrapping his arms around me to hold on and whispering things in my ear. I think I'm disturbed I can't think about this now. I have to push all the Draco thoughts out of my head, and just concentrate and getting through this Ball. I'm dreading it, something's going on. And I have a feeling it involves me. Paranoid **H.P.**

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Footnotes: Yes! More plot! Let your brain melt from the plotty-ness. Sorry for the big time jump. But otherwise the diaries would be v. v. boring.

_SLASH co. slash@clowsecrets.com_


	4. Part 4

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm, Ginny/Seamus, and various others **Rating:** PG-13 **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. Nor do we own any songs etc used in this fic, unless otherwise stated **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. **Side Note:** This chapter contains no diary entries, because we could figure out how to phrase the ball in diary entries. Sorry 

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**Part 4** Draco Malfoy squared his shoulders and looked up at the door to the Great Hall, hearing the music trickling through the thick oak doors. The Ball was almost in full swing, and he was arriving "fashionably" late. Well, really, he just wanted to eliminate the risk of seeing Harry Potter. He'd found himself daydreaming of what Harry's dress robes would be like in potions the previous day. He smoothed out a crease in his robes, and pushed the doors open. He glanced around at the Hall, admiring the changes. Dumbledore had out done himself this time. The house tables were gone, replaced by a large dining table. It seemed that everyone would be dining together tonight. The tablecloth was a dazzling orange to commemorate Halloween, and the fabric looked as if it was made of water, rippling up and down the table. Long candles were hovering above the Hall, casting eerie shadows over the food. Large pumpkins stood in every corner of the room, and a few smaller pumpkins carved into jack-o-lanterns were placed every few feet along the walls. Draco peered at one of the jack-o-lanterns and realized that it was slowly bleeding from the eyes, nose, and mouth, only to have the blood absorbed back into the bottom of the pumpkin. "A bleeding pumpkin? Huh, clever." He muttered as he made his way over to the table to sit down with the rest of Hogwarts. Draco tried to shift gracefully through the packed mass of bodies, but found himself shoved against the wall and standing near Seamus Finnigan, whose was hunched over someone talking in their ear. "Ginny, you look simply ravishing. I could eat you up!" "Please...don't." Draco blanched, and scurried away to the table, and sat down at the first seat he could find...which was directly across from Harry Potter and followers. He quickly glanced over at the trio, and immediately noticed Hermione raising an eyebrow his way. Tempted to crack out an insult, Draco looked away and tried to focus on the meat cleaver, which was currently lodged in Snape's skull up at the staff table. Snape's face was twisted into a grimace as Flitwick quickly charmed the blade away. Snape's grimace faded slightly, and Dumbledore stood up in front of the school to announce the festivities. After his speech, Dumbledore sat back down and the table filled itself with food of all kinds, appealing to the hungry appetites of students. Draco pulled his plate towards him and began to load food onto his plate, keeping an air of dignity the whole time while the Gryffindors were still able to see him. Once the feast was done the table cleared and the students all began to get up, chattering excitedly in anticipation for the dancing that was to take place. Hermione's voice rose above the rest and she called out in a clear tone. "Seventh years please stay behind after the ball for Truth or Dare game. The ball will be ending at midnight, enjoy your evening." She flushed slightly at the feeling of 'power' that she held, then trotted off to coax Ron into a slow waltz. Draco watched her wander over to the redhead and unconsciously let his eyes search for Harry who was chatting easily to some Ravenclaw that Draco had never seen before. The blonde shook his head, and went to go get some butter beer, noticing that most of the new extra strength brand was gone. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and he jumped from nerves. Blaise laughed behind him as she took her hand off his shoulder. When he turned, she was looking at him earnestly. "Staying for the game?" Draco eyed her warily, apprehension creeping into his thoughts. "Why do you want to know?" He sneered. Blaise chuckled. "Save it. I just want to make sure the game will be...eventful. Besides, if you don't go, I'll tell everyone you're nuttier than a nut bar in nut world." Draco could only stare at her at this ridiculous response. "Er...right." Draco blinked. "I guess I could be there, if you arrange that I'm not made a complete prat of." He glared at her meaningfully. "Oh, don't worry," she grinned, "Hermione and I won't let things get too out of hand." Draco stared at her in puzzlement, but she had already turned around and begun to walk away. He heard her sing out behind her back just before he lost sight of her. "Be there, Draco. Or else." He sighed resignedly. It looked like he had plans for that night after all. He swayed to the beat as the music rolled out over the dancing fools, and couldn't help but smile as he heard some of the words. _ "...And they were dancing, and singing, and movin' to the groovin'; and just when, it hit me, somebody turned around and shouted **"PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC WHITE BOY! PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC RIIIIGHT! PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC WHITE BOY!**"_ After various changes of music, dance after agonizing dance of uncoordinated pupils, and a few boisterous wizards being ushered out of the Hall, the ball was finally over. Midnight had arrived. The first through sixth year students began to shuffle out of the Hall towards their common rooms, some staggering from the punch that had been spiked by none other then Pansy Parkinson, some leaning on shoulders of dates, some yawning from fatigue, all wearing a smile more or less. The seventh years crowded around each other, waiting for Hermione to lead them to the room where the game was supposed to start. A small argument broke out near the doors as Ginny clung defiantly to Seamus. "Can't I go too, Seamus?" "Uh...sorry, Gin, but it's for seventh years only, and I'm sure Ron wouldn't want you to be going." "But...but...Am I sexy?" Seamus blinked at this remark, while Ginny stumbled on her own feet. "Wha...what? Look Gin, go back to the common room, ok? I'll see you when I get back, and I'll fill you in on all the juicy details too." He winked slyly at her and tried to unclench her fingers from around his arm. "Alright you sexy blue eyed fiend, I'll be waiting. *hic*" Ginny let go of Seamus' arm and began to walk away. "Quickedy snickedy now, you." She wagged a finger at a stone gargoyle as she walked out of the doors, Seamus shaking his head in disbelief at her. "Ron, your sister is...odd." Ron, who hadn't been paying attention at the time, spun around and noticed Ginny stumbling up the steps. "Oh god...What has she been drinking?" Ron moaned, but before he could go after her Hermione had run an arm through his and began to lead off the seventh years. "Everyone ready? When we get to the room, Blaise Zabini will explain the rules too you," Hermione grinned, "but I just want to say that you don't have to play. You can sit and watch. However, house points will be awarded to those who do participate. The games will be played in rounds, in which people will gradually be eliminated from. The final remaining people will be awarded a total of 30 house points each." Hermione beamed at the anxious faces. "Alright then! Lets go, and let the games begin!" She cackled silently to herself. "Mwahahahahahaha." She was forced to stop once Ron punched her in the arm. She lead the seventh years down a set of winding, narrow stairs. She and Blaise had managed to find a warm dungeon to play the game in. Ron leaned over to her, putting his arm round her and she leaned closer to him. "So what do we have planned for tonight, Head Girl?" She pinched his hand playfully. "The way you say it, you'd think I had some devious trap set." She smiled inwardly. "Don't you? I can tell when you've cooked something up, Hermione. And from the look of it, it appears fiendish." He winked at her, but she only smiled a toothy grin in return. "You'll have to wait and see, Ron. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." Under her breath she muttered. "Surprised yes; whether it be pleasant or not we'll have to see, and from seven years of experience, I'm guessing no." "Hmmmmmm?" Ron mumbled close to her ear. "What were you muttering to yourself?" Hermione snapped in nervous surprise. "Nothing, sweetie. Nothing at all." Draco trailed at the back of the group, making notes of what way they were going so he wouldn't get lost if he had to make a quick escape. He had a bad feeling that something was going on; and Blaise had told him to turn up at the game. Was she up to something? He narrowed his eyes in quiet suspicion. "Left, right, middle fork, downward staircase...dammit we're making too many twists and turns!" He rubbed a hang across his eyes as he tried to grasp onto what direction they were going. "If all else fails I can just run blindly down the corridors. God I wish I'd had some of that spiked punch now." He looked above him and noticed a chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling, candles hung on every turret of the glass. In the centre of the chandelier was an all-seeing eye, slowly turning itself around to watch them as they passed below. "At last, a decent landmark to go by." He muttered as he tried to pass off the shivers racing up and down his spine. That eye had been just plain creepy. He wondered vaguely if anyone else had noticed it, but found they had all started scurrying into the dungeon room selected for the game. The door shut quietly behind him as everyone filed into the room. There were couches and chairs down the walls, and a shag-fur carpet lining the floor. Along one wall was a long table filled with refreshments, and quite a bit of alcohol. Blaise headed towards an over stuffed couch and stood up on the leather seat, her heels sinking into the cushion. "Alright everybody, I'd hope you all knew the rules, but I have little faith in you." Someone spurted out laughing, and Blaise gave them a look of hard steel. "That means you, Pansy." She spat out. It was a well-known fact that Blaise and Pansy had been feuding ever since fifth year when Pansy set Blaise on fire in a drunken stupor. She had later claimed she was just trying to warm her up, but the war between the two had already begun. Blaise turned her attention from the pug faced Pansy and looked over the crowd, particularly at Harry and Draco. Catching Hermione's eye, she nodded. With a grin on her face she began announcing the rules. "For every Dare you do, you will be awarded five house points, and for every Truth it is two points. As the game goes on, and the dares get more outrageous, and the truths grow more personal, the points you receive will go up. "If you refuse either a truth or a dare, you will be asked the opposite of what you first opted for. If you then refuse that, you are eliminated from the game." She took a breath. "Hermione Granger will start off the game by selecting the first person to choose a truth or a dare," she saw Hermione's sly look, and knew who the girl would pick first, "and then that person will pick the next person, and so on. If someone gets eliminated it will go back to Hermione, so she can choose another person to go next, understood?" She sighed, "Any questions?" A hand shot up from the back, and Blaise pointed at it. "Yes?" "What if Hermione gets eliminated?" "If Hermione gets shot, then it will go to me to pick the next person. If we both become eliminated, we will pick the next person to choose...the person. We'll most likely pick a prefect unless all of them have been eliminated." Blaise shot them a look that said 'Hermione nor I will be eliminated though.' With the formalities out of the way, Blaise dropped daintily off the chair and swept an arm around the room. "Drinks have been provided by Dumbledore after some hard persuasion from our Head Girl, and are there for your thirsty gobs. Take a seat on any of the chairs, or on the floor if we run out of room. Lets get this game rolling!" She winked at the group and sat down on her slightly crushed chair. For a moment no one moved, and the sound of breathing rang through the room. Hermione snorted, breaking the spell, and sat down on a couch beside Blaise, dragging Ron behind her. Most people, upon seeing Hermione sit down without looking worried in a way, scrambled to get a chair (seeing as there weren't enough for everyone). Soon, the seventh years were in a neat, tight circle, and were waiting for Hermione to choose her victim. Hermione tapped her finger on her knee and peered around the circle, her eyes closed slightly in a devious grin. She roamed her gaze around the circle twice, finally stopping on the person directly beside her, Ron. Ron paled and began to fidget in his seat as she sang out in a whisper that the entire room heard. "Ronald Weasley...Truth or Dare?" The room cracked up as Ron just stared dumbly at her. Ron gulped as he tried to shrink into the space between the cushions of the couch, trying to escape his girlfriend's piercing look. "Um...uh...truth I guess." He mumbled weakly as Hermione let out a disappointed sigh, giving him a look that told him she'd been hoping for dare. She stopped to think, her eyes clouded with thoughts. After two minutes she snapped her fingers, and looked at him, her evil grin back in place. "Ron, do you ever...oh I don't know...fantasize? About your best friend? Harry?!" Everyone caught Ron's mortified look, and began laughing. No one seemed to notice that Harry had almost passed out from Hermione's question. "Be honest now, Ron. You did choose truth." Ron muttered, "Oh god." and brought a hand across his eyes. His face beet red, he slowly nodded his head, then hissed "I will get you back for this." He shot her a look of pure venom and muttered a disgruntled 'yes'. He tried to recover from the embarrassment as he sought out his victim. 'Touch-backs' weren't allowed, so he'd have to wait for someone to choose him again. The group was howling now, and Harry looked like he'd seen a ghost. Ron shook his head, swearing revenge, and picked apart the faces laughing back at him. Seamus was rolling along the floor, hands clutching his stomach from laughing so hard, and Ron smiled. "Seamus! Truth or dare!" The room fell silent, only to be erupted by loud 'Ooooohhhhss' coming from the encircled mass of people. Seamus looked shocked, but soon recovered. "Truth. Unlike you, I don't think about my roommates like that." He winked as Ron began to fume. "Alright then, Finnigan." Ron spat out, trying to hide a smile. It was a fun game, after all. "Who's your mystery girl then?" Seamus looked confused for a minute, until he beamed. "Are you daft or something, Ron? It's Ginny, for god sakes!" Ron looked stricken, but soon began to laugh. "Choose someone Seamus," people began chanting, falling into the swing of the game. Seamus' eyes roamed around the room, landing on Harry. He uttered a single word. "Harry." The room gasped. "Truth or Dare?" More gasps. Harry blinked, and recovered from his shocking revelation of Ron. Pausing for a moment, he decided to be brave, like any Gryffindor. "Er--dare, I guess." Seamus sucked his teeth, thinking hard. He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth slightly. After a few moments his eyes snapped open and he grinned. "Alright, this being the first dare I'll keep it low-profile. Harry, I dare you too straddle Ron and lick his neck, passionately." There was a chorus of 'oooh's' and 'ahhhhhs'. Hermione giggled. Ron gulped and looked mortified. Harry sat stunned. And Blaise clapped her hands gleefully, seeing Draco's look. He looked almost...angry, jealous possibly. Harry looked at Ron, his stomach slowly turning itself into lead. He couldn't back down on the first dare of the game, he had to be brave. He stood up on shaky legs and slowly made his way across the circle towards Ron. "Harry, come on its just a game..." Ron squeezed back onto the couch. Harry closed the gap between the two and swallowed his embarrassment. Ron had closed his eyes tightly now and was blushing furiously. Harry sat down on Ron's lap, straddling his legs, and leaned forward towards Ron's neck. Someone close by whispered,"Hmmm, Colin Creevey will be distraught over missing _this_." Harry closed his eyes as his lips came in contact with Ron's neck, and Harry began to lick the skin, gently caressing it with his tongue. Harry's eyes flew open and he whispered against Ron's flesh, "Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"Ron's mouth fell open and he pushed Harry off of him forcefully. "YOU PERVERT!" Ron howled and Harry laughed. "Looks like the Eiffel Tower finally has something to be jealous of." Harry retorted, struggling to keep the mirth out of his voice. The group fell apart, roaring with laughter. Hermione quietly whispered to Blaise, "Looks like I've got some competition. This game is turning out better then I had hoped for." The Slytherin girl could only nod in reply, tears were streaming down her cheeks from suppressed hysterics. Hermione, knowing the real reason for this game, turned to check out the blonde haired boys reaction. He wasn't laughing, but his eye was twitching, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Malfoy doesn't seem to pleased." She nudged Blaise and the girl quickly eyed the boy. "He's jealous, of course." Hermione nodded..."Possibly..." Harry sat back down at his place, receiving pats on the back. "Harry! Your turn to choose," Hermione announced. "Oh...urm..." He glared at the two girls, then curtly replied, "Blaise." A hush descended the on circle. "Truth or Dare?" Blaise pondered, she hadn't expected to be dragged into the game so soon. "Dare," she shrugged, deciding quickly. Harry swore under his breath; Truth or Dare wasn't his forte. "Alright then, uh..." He looked at Hermione pleadingly for an idea, but she just smirked. "Um..." Someone poked him in the side and whispered something into his ear. "Oh...ok...yeah...Blaise, you're dare is to be strip off someone's clothing, blindfolded." The circle just stared at him for a moment before slowly smiling in slight acknowledgement. "What? It wasn't my idea!" Harry said in defense, but at this point no one was listening. Blaise jumped up, grinning. "Right, where's my blindfold, and who do I have to strip?" Staring, Harry stood up. He had expected Blaise to refuse, thinking of her Slytherin pride. "Er...oh shit. I dunno," he thought for a moment. "We'll spin you around, then you can choose who you strip blindly. You'll only know _after_ you've done it." Blaise smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly replaced it with a broader grin. "Ok then! Suit me up and lets get cracking'!" She chortled as Harry searched around for a cloth to use as a blindfold. Hermione jumped up, "Oh, Harry, pfft," she waved her wand performing a temporary blind spell on Blaise. Harry grabbed her shoulders and gently spun her around in a circle, letting her go after a few revolutions. Blaise stumbled on her high, dainty heels, before walking in a straight line towards the crowd. People shifted around, giving the Slytherin girl a hard time at catching them, none of them wanting to be devoid of clothes. People giggled as Blaise grasped blindly for someone to do her dare on. "Goddamn you all," Blaise muttered, as her hand closed tightly around someone's arm. She slipped the robes off their shoulders, pushing them to the floor. Before the person had a chance to pull away from her tight grasp, Blaise reached down and pulled up on the hem of their shirt, managing to devoid them of their upper clothing in a swift motion of her hand. The person began to squirm as Blaise's fingers trailed down their chest to unbutton their fly, but Blaise refused to let go and quickly pulled the zipper down. With a final smirk set in place, she hooked her thumbs into the belt loops and heaved them down. Feeling triumphant of her task, Blaise flicked her own wand, removing the spell that shadowed her eyes. Upon seeing her victim, she cursed colorfully under her breath. Standing there, wearing nothing but tighty-whities, was Neville Longbottom, turning a magnificent shade of magenta. All Blaise could here was the laughter of the room, and she hoped that her face wasn't showing any signs of her horror. "Okay, then Potter," she said bluntly, "I've done you're dare. My turn now." Harry was rather glad at that moment that touchbacks were forbidden. Blaise needed revenge, and she turned on someone. "PANSY." The room hushed. "Truth. Or Dare?" Pansy scowled, but muttered 'Dare' icily. She wasn't about to be shown up by that priss Zabini. Blaise smiled triumphantly, "Oh, I have the perfect dare for you, Parkinson." Pansy's hard look faltered, and the seventh years found themselves looking from Pansy to Blaise and back to Pansy again, enthralled with suspense. Blaise walked over to the table where the drinks were resting, and she picked up a large bottle with an amber liquid sloshing behind the glass. She carried the bottle back to the circle and shoved it into Pansy's face. "Drink it. All of it. One go, one swallow, one time, no stops, no spills, no half-ass jobs." Pansy stared at the bottle, reading the label over and over again. 'Ogden's Fire Whisky'. She grimaced, and looked at Blaise, whimpering; "You can't be serious. Come _on_ Blaise, you--" "That's your dare." "Oooooh," someone breathed behind Pansy. "Blaise, you _know_ how I get when I drink this stuff. It's an unfair..." "Alright then, truth Pansy, take your consequence." Pansy looked at her steely eyed. "Fine. Ask me then." Blaise appeared to think; a look of utter pleasure crossed her face, and she replied with a relish. "Is it true that you stole several pairs of Draco Malfoy's boxers from his underwear drawer and parade around in them every night?" Pansy blanched, "Fuck you," she muttered vehemently and stalked over to the table holding the drinks, picked up a butter beer and secluded herself in a corner. Blaise clapped her hands; "Looks like we just had our first elimination. Hermione, choose the next person please." She grinned, and sat back down on the couch. The game went on. After about an hour, people were dropping out rapidly as the dares and truths got more and more difficult to handle as the people preying on the victim got more vindictive. Left in the circle now was Draco, Blaise, Hermione, Harry, Lavender, Padma Patil, Seamus, and Justin Finch-Fletchly. Dean had just been eliminated and it was up to Hermione to choose the next poor soul. Her eyes glinted as she bore down over Lavender. "Lavender, Truth or Dare?" Lavender squealed in delight, the thrill of the game causing her to become more giddy then usual. "Truth! The dares are getting a little...risky for my liking!" She said with a faint blush and a wide grin. Blaise muttered to Hermione; "Is she so dumb that she hasn't noticed how screwed up your Truths are?" "Lavender," Hermione said calmly, a sly look on her face, "is it true that you have the Wizarding Playboy Wrinkly guy edition under your pillow?" She paused, and added, "And that you rather like the Dumbledore center page?" Ron, who was still sitting next to Hermione even though he had been eliminated, choked on his drink. Obviously, he didn't realize just how twisted his girlfriend could be. Lavender blanched and stood up from the circle, backing off. "Uh...I'll just...leave now, ok?" She spluttered as she headed over to the band of eliminated students. The circle burst out with laughter, but was immediately hushed as Hermione ruthlessly chose another person. "Seamus. You know the drill." "DARE!" He chirped. He had been consuming an awful amount of alcohol, and seemed up for anything. Hermione looked over at Blaise and winked. She walked up to her and whispered something in her ear, causing a high-pitched bark to escape Blaise's lips. Blaise covered her mouth and nodded furiously at Hermione, who trotted back to Seamus. "Ok my Irish friend, lets see just how daring you are. This dare is a little...oh...different, though. We tell you the dare, part by part. You get the next part after you complete the first, all right? Fifty house points will be awarded if you do the entire dare. Agreed?" By now Seamus would have agreed to have his entire body waxed, tarred, and feathered. He nodded his head vigorously. "Agreed." He beamed. Blaise snickered, and conjured up a fuzzy blue bathrobe. "Alright Irish stud, strip down and get dressed up. We want this, on you, nothing else." Seamus quickly de-robed and climbed into the bathrobe."Ah, tis lovely and soft." He slurred as he wrapped himself up in the fabric. The circle just stared, not knowing where this was going. "Alright now Seamus, here's your next part. You're to go out into the hall, take that fuzzy garment and sling it around your arm, meaning take it off of course, and go tearing through the various corridors until you attract enough attention." Seamus grinned and sauntered out of the door. "He's really gonna do this? Ginny will not be pleased..." Ron gaped. Turning his head around, he winked at the group and shrugged off the robe, keeping it held between his fingers. Kicking his heels up, he began to calmly walk down the hallway, singing loudly _'We Are The Champions'_ to make sure people knew he was there. "Ok Seamus, next part." Hermione said, eyeing the awakening school that was slowly coming down a set of stairs to see what the commotion was. "Head to the Great Hall, where your next task awaits." Seamus nodded his head, still singing loudly, and swaggered off, buns shaking with the tune.Upon arriving at the Great Hall, Blaise handed him a pair of handcuffs. "Tie yourself up, boy." She crowed gleefully. A look of apprehension crept into his fuzzy mind, but he took the cuffs and attached them to a table leg of the Gryffindor table, which had been brought back after the ball. Latching himself onto the other end of the handcuffs, Seamus desperately tried to pull the bathrobe back on, becoming increasingly aware of voices coming from outside the doors. "Ha-Ha guys! Great dare! Now gimme the points and let it go!" He begged pleadingly, but Hermione only grinned. Blaise raised her wand and muttered 'Accio.' Seamus' robe didn't stand a chance, and went flying towards the girl's outstretched hand. Seamus gulped, and realized the head girl and the Slytherin girl were far from done. "What next?" He asked meekly. He was lying there, hooked to a table, wearing nothing but a metal link around his wrist. Seamus was more then a little bit worried. Hermione directed the circle behind a large pumpkin and vanished from sight. Seamus gulped, the thought of being left alone naked in the Great Hall pressing down on him. Hermione's voice spoke directly beside his ear, though she was behind the pumpkin. "Ok Seamus, you have two more parts to do. When the first person walks through those doors, you are to scream, as loud and as huskily as you can..." Seamus drank in the words, dread freezing his insides. Could he be expelled for this? Hopefully the excuse _'I was drunk. Very drunk.'_ would be good enough to get him out of trouble. The voice dwindled and stopped, and Seamus prayed that no one would walk through those doors. As if on cue, the doors opened wide, and Severus Snape walked into the room. Seamus squeezed his eyes shut tight. Of all the people... Taking a large breath of air, he opened his mouth and hollered "TAKE ME NOW!" Snape froze on spot while Seamus cursed beneath his breath. 'You git, you're supposed to leave! Go! The longer you stay, the more I have to say!' Snape looked paralyzed with shock, and Seamus sighed in resignation. Seamus opened his mouth again and began hollering profanities about what he wanted Snape to do to him. The Potions Master just stood there, staring. Seamus' face was turning a slow red, and he could hear the muffled laughter of those behind the pumpkin in his ear. Snape snapped out of his daze. "Finnigan..." He started. Seamus, desperate for a way out of this mess, began to move his hips upward, arching his back. Snape paled, snapped his mouth shut, and spun around on his heel. It appeared that the Head of Slytherin had had enough. The groupies fell out from behind the pumpkin, laughing like maniacs and clutching each other for support. Even Draco was crying from mirth. "Oh...my...god." Harry croaked. "PLEASE! GIVE ME THE DAMN ROBE!" "Looks like you'll have something to tell Ginny when you get back, Finnigan!" Ron roared as he handed the robe over to the cowering Irish boy. Seamus' face fell and a look of utter horror over came him. He staggered for a moment, and then passed out. Hermione levitated him off the ground and led the group back to the room they had occupied before. "Looks like we have another one out of the game, so...my pick again. I'll pass it up to you Blaise, I'm fresh out of ideas." She winked at Blaise, and Blaise got the hint. Blaise surveyed the depleting circle, pretending to look, building up tension. "Oh...er...Potter." Harry jumped at his name, and looked up at Blaise. "Truth or Dare, Boy Who Lived?" Harry sat back on his haunches, going through his choices. Tell some horrible truth, or do some horrible dare? His mind ran a mile a minute as he weighed his options. He didn't want to end up like poor Seamus, but then again he didn't want to end up like Lavender or Pansy, or even Ron. If he spilt a truth then there would be no excuse, however with dare... "Dare." Harry said glumly, and his tormentor's face lit up. "Well Harry, as I've come to notice, both you and a Mister Malfoy have been left out of the more...personal? Risky? Devious? Dares." Blaise's smile could have melted the lake in the middle of winter. "Er--" Harry started, "I suppose so." "Well...lets have a dare that brings you both into it." Draco's head shot up (he had been dozing) and he looked sharply at Blaise. Harry felt his heart stop. "And what is that?" Draco snapped. "What's this? A Malfoy, scared? Oh that's rich." Blaise retorted, causing Draco to fume. However, the boy kept his mouth shut. "Well, you did choose dare Harry, and what better way to put the two of you into the game then by throwing you together in a dare? Kill two birds with one stone, as they say." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless the mighty Potter is afraid as well." Harry squared his shoulders. "Just spit it out Blaise, so we can get this dare over with." "For one-hundred house points, I dare you and Draco to kiss, with tongues, for a whole minute." A deathly silence descended over the group, until Ron burst out laughing. "HA! You aren't serious? Harry would NEVER kiss that blonde git." Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Blaise never took her eyes off of Harry's. "No, I guess he wouldn't. Cowards always take the easy routes out." "We both get the points?" Draco asked, interested, but trying to hide it. "As long as you don't back down, D, and I thought Malfoy's _never_ backed down?" The group watched in itching anticipation. Surely the two enemies wouldn't snog each other for house points. They HATED each other. Thoughts swirled through Harry's head. If he dropped out, he'd lose one hundred house points, which his house desperately needs, and he'd be called a coward for the rest of the year. Yet if he stayed in the game, he'd have to kiss Malfoy! Though Draco had been looking rather nice lately, and those lips did look full and tempting. Draco licked his lips in thought, and Harry caught every movement. GOD! What was he thinking! He _couldn't_ kiss Malfoy. But...one-hundred house points... He took a deep breath. Even if he refused, he'd get a truth, which could surpass the dare. "...Okay. Whatever. For one-hundred house points, I'm sure I can stand Malfoy for a minute." Ron stopped sniggering. "Harry?! What the f---" "Oh, shush Ron." Malfoy snapped out of his thoughts. Had Potter just said yes? "Potter, are you MAD?!" Harry shrugged. "I'm not doing this for kissing you. I'd rather snog Trevor. I want the points." Malfoy considered this, not noticing Hermione and Blaise trapped in deep suspense. He was secretly pleased the Harry had agreed, in a way, he would get to live out at least one fantasy, and maybe banish all intrusive thoughts of the boy once and for all. "Fine, whatever, for the points." Blaise's' jaw dropped. She really hadn't expected them to AGREE. She tried hard to contain her glee, and looked over at Hermione, who gave her a thumbs up. "Okay then!" Blaise jumped up, clapping her hands together excited. "You have to kiss for a minute, tongues included, right, or no points at all. Feel free to let your hands wander too, and you might get a bonus," she winked. Draco felt a tug of anticipation as he walked over to Harry, and masked it by glaring at the green-eyed boy, who had stood and was now fidgeting anxiously. They stood looking at each other for a moment, eyes locked. Draco snapped. "Come on Potter, I'd rather like to get this over with, wouldn't you?" Harry stepped forward, took a deep breath, grabbed Draco by the robes and pulled him in close. Their lips clashed together, and Draco felt his eyes flutter shut.Harry watched Malfoy's eyes closed, and couldn't help but do the same. Draco's tongue ran along his lower lip, and forced its way into his mouth. Harry froze for a moment, Draco's tongue flicked over his own, and Harry felt his knees go weak. He began to press hard onto Draco's lips, letting his own tongue dance with the blonde's. Draco moaned into his mouth, and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck. Ron, still sitting on the couch with Hermione, grimaced in disgust, and quickly dashed out of the room. Blaise and Hermione stared at the boys with a mixture if shock and delight. Harry's hands shifted to Draco's lower back, and he pressed the boy closer to him, wanting to have as much contact as possibly. Draco's fingers wove into Harry's messy black hair. Unaware of what was going on around them, Draco pushed Harry back, so he was sitting on the chair Draco broke the kiss suddenly, and Harry tried to pull him back, but Draco dodged his hands, and straddled Harry's hips, and began kissing along his neck. "Draco..." Harry breathed, before their lips met again. "Ooooohhhh, boy," Blaise said to Hermione, "looks like we may have to vacate the area." Hermione nodded, and turned to the rest of the group. Without any words, they all scurried to the door, leaving Draco and Harry locked in their embrace. Draco's hands were up Harry's robes, running over Harry's chest, when he suddenly stopped. _Oh...SHIT. What the hell am I doing?_ startled, he fell back, making Harry jump. Harry, dazed, brought his fingers up to his face, touching his lips briefly. Then the shockwave hit. "OH MY KISS JESUS WHO IN KILL FUCK NEVER WHY MEASLY STUPID GIT HOUSE FUCKER POINTS FUCKING SHIT FUCK FUCK!!!" Harry spat onto the floor and scratched at his arms, digging deep into the flesh with his fingernails. Draco could barely support himself, he was shaking so hard. Leaning up against the doorjamb, he had broken into a cold sweat. "What...the...FUCK...just...happened?" He muttered, his voice wavering. "How the fuck should I know? Jesus Christ, I can't believe I just..." Draco smirked, "You seemed to be enjoying it, Potter." "Go to hell, Malfoy." "I'll be sure to send my warmest regards when I get there, Potter," Draco sneered. Harry glared at Draco, then stalked out of the room, confused, dazed, and shaken beyond belief. Malfoy let out a deep shudder and collapsed against the doorjamb. "Time to head back," he muttered to no one, and swept out of the now deserted room. 

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Footnotes: w00t. Were you waiting for that? We supplied your snogging. Hope you enjoyed, you may not see more again *g* We'll get back to diaries next chapter. Sorry for the slight OOC in all characters. We do try to keep them as CANON as possible, but sometimes your allowed a bit of creative licence, right? The rant spewed that makes no sense is known as a Sirius rant© (er--hard to explain why) **And yes, we dragged out the chapter as long as possible before the end. Muaha** _SLASH co._ _slash@clowsecrets.com_


	5. Part 5

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm, Ginny/Seamus, and various others **Rating:** PG-13/R **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. Nor do we own any songs etc used in this fic, unless otherwise stated **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. 

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**Part 5**

**November 1st** Diary; Words cannot describe the mental loathing that is running through my head. Last night is a memory I wish to erase from my brain forever...but want to hold on to it for an eternity. Despite the fact I have totally disgraced myself, the mighty Potter also fell.

Yes, this has to do with Potter. Everything has to do with that damn wretch of a human being. Although I've tried my best for life not to revolve around him, it still does. He is a disease, with no immunity. My only consolation is the hope that Potter will be waking up this morning to have the same horrible thoughts that I have now. To be thinking of those perfect lips, clasped onto mine, that smooth skin, rubbing against mine... Dammit! Why can't I get him out of my head? I...just, I don't know what to do anymore. This sound so pathetic, it's degrading, but what can I do? All this mental torment is making me ill, and the pen is starting to shake from my trembling hands. I think ending this now and digging through Pansy's supply of illegal booze would be good. **D.**

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_**11.01**_ Hello Diary; While rooting through my dorm mates' stuff the other day, I found that both Ron and Harry have diaries. Of course, I didn't read them...I didn't have time and had to go to class...but seeing them both have a place to record their thoughts, I felt slightly out of the loop. So, I've started you! And what better way to start off a diary then with an entry of the night before?!

I woke up to find myself lying on my bed back in the dorm. Don't rightly know how that happened, but at least I was clothed at this point. Head still hurts a little from the drinks, but luckily Madam Pomfrey knew we'd be drinking and had concocted a type of hangover potion for us. I felt kind of nervous taking it, considering Snape does all the potions in the school, and I vaguely remember what happened in the Great Hall...but how is he to know when and who is taking it, right? Although...we do have potions first lesson when the weekend is over. Will have to sit in the far back with Dean. Neville draws too much attention to himself. Anyhow, after taking the potion, I came back to the common room to find myself besieged by Ginny. The hammering questions were enough to make me wish I were still unconscious on the Great Hall's floor! Will have to ask Hermione how exactly I got back and what I missed when I see her next. Of course, I couldn't answer most of Ginny's questions since all they were "Seamus! What is this big scandal I hear you've had? No one will tell me!" and of course I can't remember myself, so I'm at a loss. I could only tell her that it was a might chilly. Now she won't talk to me because she thinks I'm lying or something. I'll never understand women. And what went on after I passed out is just as hard to find out as my own fiasco! I asked Harry this morning, and got the most confusing reaction out of all the people I asked, aside from Ron who started swearing like his hand had been cut off or something. Harry just stood there, going from pale white to beet red in a matter of moments. Then he kind of raised his hand to his face, but realized what he was doing and bolted. Am so very confused. Hermione must have the answers I'm looking for. Doesn't she always have the answers? If she can't answer me, the universe has gone insane. Apart from huge patches of my memory missing, I'm wagering that last night was pretty good. Once I have all the juicy details I'll report back to you and your delightful pages. As of now though, I'm famished. Ciao; _**Seamus**_

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_Harry looked around him to make sure that no one was about. He was standing in front of the doors to let him outside, his diary under one arm and a quill and some food under the other. He quietly opened the door and headed out into the brisk November air, walking towards the Quidditch Pitch. Harry settled himself onto one of the benches in the stands, taking a brief moment to look at the pitch from this point of view. He'd always seen it from above, from below, and from the sidelines, but never from the stands when there was no one playing. The quiet descending upon the pitch was exactly what he wanted, and he opened up his diary to a clean page He stared at the crisp off white page; and ran his hand over the paper, lost in thought. Picking up his quill, and rolling it on his fingers, he tried to sort out a way of putting his thoughts down._

**Nov. 1st** Diary- _He paused and ran a hand through his hair, knotting the strands around his finger and nibbling on the end of the quill. Finally resolving his thoughts, he dipped the quill in some ink and began to scratch at the open book._ Through the series of events last night, I'm more then a little confused at the moment. Is this supposed to be normal? I know they always say that teenagers go through phases...but something like this? All I can think about was that last moment of the game, and the bitter disappointment after breaking away. I reacted badly...was there any other way to react? My feelings are so muddled, with so many emotions, swirling through my head. Anger, grief, even a little bit of Joy, others I can't even give a name too for fear of what they might be. I think I'm better off at sudden peril then inner turmoil and anguish. If Ron wasn't being such a dick about it I'd talk it over with him...and I could never tell Hermione. I've secluded myself for the entire day so far, not wanting to face my friends. What would they say? What do they think? All I can hope for is that this somehow sorts itself out before next class, or I may find myself sitting alone, as I am now. There is a certain peace that derives from the solitude, but this is different. This is Welcome. _Harry paused from his scribbling and looked up over the Quidditch pitch to the stands on the over side and beyond, his gaze wandering over all he could see. He narrowed his eyes as something moved on the far side of the pitch, moving quickly through the stands. Harry squinted, trying to make out the shadow, but it was too far away, even for his glasses. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and went back to his diary._ Its weird to associate a good feeling with Draco Malfoy... but this seems to be one that doesn't want to go away, wants to stay lodged where it can pester me continually. I wonder when it arrived, has it always been there? A part of me says yes, it's been with me from square one and has no intention of leaving. Says it's beyond anything I can comprehend, and has all the right to be here. Another part of me says that I'm just being stupid and should drop the whole subject. Funny how the second part seems more logical, yet I can't help but believe in part one more strongly. Its almost a "go with you heart" or "listen to your head" thing, isn't it? Logic and reason above lust and possibly...no...just lust if I can even call it _that_. I don't know whats going on, and maybe this..._thing_...needs to play itself out. Maybe this feeling lodged deep inside will get bored? I guess all I can do is wait it out. The November chill is starting to get to me, and while I love the quiet out here, I didn't think of bringing my winter cloak. I'll end it here, before my fingers go numb and my lips go blue. **Harry.** _Harry snapped his diary shut and stowed it under his arm pulling his robes closer to his body for a shred of extra warmth. He clambered down the stands to the sidelines of the pitch and began to walk back to the castle, shivering slightly now. Keeping his head down from the rising wind, he watched as his feet kicked out infront of him, keeping him in line with the castle's inviting door. Something moved within the shadows of the bleachers and the movement caught Harry's eye, causing him to slow down and peer into the darkness underneath the beams and rafters. "Whats this?" Draco Malfoy suddenly materialized in front of Harry, indicating to the book tucked under Harry's arm. Harry hugged the diary to his chest, protective of his inner thoughts. "S'nothing of interest to you, Malfoy. Back off." "Is that so?" Draco tilted his head sideways and read off "Journal" that was embossed in gold letters on the front. Quickly, he reached forward, and snatched the diary from Harry's grasp. "Hmm, lets see what the Boy Who Lived has to write about, shall we?" Harry lurched forward, and made a feeble attempt to grasp the book, but almost ended up flat on his face, when Draco shuffled backwards. Chuckling, Draco opened the book and gazed at the first page, taking in the untidy scrawl of ink plastered onto the parchment. He skimmed over the first entry, but finding nothing of interest quickly jumped to the last page. "What's been on your mind today, Potter? Anything I should know about?" Harry made a groaning noise as he tried to pick himself up off the ground. His heart sank as Draco read the entry. After a few moments of tense silence, Draco slowly shut the book, and threw it at Harry's feet. "Damn, you're so pathetic Potter. Keeping a diary when everything you do is so boring and perfect anyway." Harry picked up his diary and stared at Draco's back as he walked away. Was it his imagination, or was Draco walking a little stiffly? He brushed the dirt off the cover of the book and swore to himself at allowing Draco to read it. He looked back to the receding Slytherin's form and noticed something beneath his arm. Was that...could it be...a diary? Harry nearly cried out from relief. If Draco got to read his journal, then it was only fair that Harry got to read his. He pitched forward into a run, and grabbed the back of Draco's robes, sending them both tumbling to the floor. "Wha--? Potter, are you fucking psychotic?!" In a frenzy Harry dug his way around in Draco's robes and pulled out the black leather bound book.He scrambled back off the blonde boy and moved away from him, a big enough distance to give him a good head start if a chase began. Draco, himself, was too shocked to even move. Hang on a minute...Potter had just tackled him...and...oh shit. Draco sat up. "POTTER!" He screeched. "So undignified for you, Malfoy." Harry retorted as he scanned the pages, stopping every now and then as he saw his own name. "Interesting." He continued, albeit weakly. "Very interesting." His face had gone from a stricken white to a beet red in matter of moments, and Draco was now sitting on the frozen earth with a hand across his eyes, cursing the day he was born. Harry looked down, disbelief and shock in his eyes. He turned around shakily and began to walk back to the castle, not really seeing where he was going. Draco was to mortified to follow. Neither of them realized that Harry had walked off with two books clasped numbly between his hands._

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For one, thank you for all the feedback. Glad you like chapter four! ^.^ Yeah, this chapters short, but we're eventually going to do a revised version. Also, this was the perfect place to leave it for now. Can't resist a cliffhanger =P _SLASH co. (change of email) slashco@mail.nu_


	6. Part 6

**Title**: Draco Diaries **Authored by**: SLASH co. **Summary**: Seventh year, a series of diary entries, mainly Draco, of the year and it's happenings. Inner thoughts and common room escapades (mwaha) from the characters POV. SLASH. **Pairings :** Harry/Draco, Ron/Herm, Ginny/Seamus, and various others **Rating:** PG-13/R **DISCLAIMER**: We own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling. We're just tormenting characters. Nor do we own any songs etc used in this fic, unless otherwise stated. **FINAL WARNINGS & Authors' Note**: This is SLASH, and may contain mature scenes later on. Swearing is common. Please don't read if you can't handle any of these things. In fact, just hit the back button now and have a nice day. Anyway, please R/R. Flaming is acceptable, loss of morals are not our responsibility. 

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**Part 6**

**November 2nd** Scrap of thoughts; Due to that damn Potter running off with my diary I have been forced to find a new way to record my thoughts, since they are confusing and many. After searching through my room for a decent piece of paper, I have found this old piece of parchment, half of which has my charms homework on it from fifth year.

I've considered cornering Potter and demanding my diary back, but the humiliation has stopped me. Has he read the rest of my diary by now? And has he told anyone? If anyone finds out, I'll be ruined. The only consolation I have is that Potter feels remotely the same way. If only I'd run off with _his_ diary instead of vice versa. But no, I just sat there frozen as the stupid prat toddled away. I hadn't even realized he had my secret log until I got back to the common room. What I read in his journal must have been a joke; a cruel, twisted joke to spite me. I keep running it through my mind, and everytime the words have a different meaning. This can't be healthy, my obsession. The facts are staring me straight in the face, and yet I can't help but believe that they're wrong. And with the loss of my little black book I'm nowhere. My world has deteriorated and flown away in a flurry of ashes. I never knew how dependant upon that book I was, until it was taken from me. And now I don't know if I'll ever get it back. Why must I be cursed by that fucking git of a boy; that favourite of teachers boy; that perfect in every-god-damn-way boy! It's not fair, and every nerve of my body says so. If I can't even keep my thoughts from him, what am I? Dog of the damn boy who lived? I may as well just tie a leash around my neck and walk on all fours. In fact, I'll just crawl off to Quidditch practice right now, like the mutt I have become. **D**.

***

**Nov. 2, 4pm.**

Diary; I can finally write about that disgusting splay of events at the Hallowe'en party. Never have I seen something more retched then what happened two nights ago. Not only did I embarrass myself to no end, but I also had to watch Harry...get this, Harry make out with _Draco Malfoy_! I have no comprehension of why my best friend tongue wrestled with that...with that...blonde git. And then, there was my girlfriend, all but cheering for it. Has this school suddenly gone fucking crazy? I'm at a loss. I can't even talk to Harry anymore, because of the mental images in my head. Am I the only one who finds this situation completely and utterly _wrong_? I envy Seamus at the moment for missing out on it. He's asked me several times already what happened, but I could never bring that awful image out in the open. Poor Harry, I feel sorry for him, even though he did do it by will. Only now am I starting to calm down and look back at this. I guess he couldn't lose his pride...but did he have to do it with Malfoy? Damn Blaise and her fucking scheming! Hermione didn't seem to surprised at the dare either though...I get the feeling that they were both in on it. I'll have to talk to Hermione about this later. She's been less then compassionate towards the matter with me though. _"Ron, give it a rest! What's done is done! Maybe you should leave the stone-cold feelings for Harry!"_ You'd think a girlfriend would at least be considerate. But is she even my girlfriend half the time? She's starting to seem like, well, like my _mother_. Her favourite line these days seems to be _"Do you actually like me for who am I? Or are you just in it for the snogging?!"_ And when I answer, _"For who you are,"_ she just goes all moody and sulky, and doesn't believe me. Honestly. Women. I'm getting a bit worried though. Today she came up to me after breakfast and told me 'We need to talk.' Then walked away. I ran after her, but all she said was 'See me after my last class.' and hurried off. Is she breaking up with me? I hope not; without Hermione, I'm lost. 

_ Ron set his quill down on the open book and rubbed his ink-stained fingers into his eyes, causing streaks of blue to smudge across his face, etching out the streaks of tears that were running down his cheeks. He took in a shuddering breath, disturbing the hangings surrounding his bed to move in the slight wind, and picked his quill up again. He loved Hermione, he only hoped she could understand that. Huddled in the darkness of his secluded bed covers, and writing by the light of his wand, Ron finished off his entry and closed the book before his tears could stain the page._

Her last class is ending now, so I best be off. **Ron.**

***

_Draco yanked the door of his locker open and proceeded to fling his Quidditch gear into it. Practice hadn't gone well, and Draco now sported a nice bruise along his collarbone from a mislead bludger. His face twisted into a grimace as he shrugged off his robes and reached for his jeans and sweater. The rest of the team had already showered and gone up to the castle, leaving him to put everything away. Being team captain had its definite downsides. _

He carried his clothes to a peg by the closest shower and walked back to close the door, squinting through the mist of the showers steam. A noise rattled out through the room and Draco looked up in surprise. Something had fallen off a bench, that was all. He shook his head and closed the locker door with a frustrated clang, slamming his fist into the steel to let out his anger. He swore silently as the pain coursed up his arm, and gently pushed his hand away from the metal, trying to rub the pain away with his other hand. Exhausted now, he leant forward and rested his head on the cool metal door of his locker. He sighed, and held his injured arm close to him. Something brushed its way down his back lightly, slowly, as if to savor the feel of his skin. Draco tensed, and went to lift his head up. He felt a puff of warm breath close to his ear, and shuddered as something caressed his neck, trailing fingers down to his collarbone and delicately over the bruise that marked his pale skin. His eyes fluttered close at the sensation before he was roughly grabbed by the shoulder and spun around. Arms traced their way around his hips, pushing him into the lockers, his bare back absorbing the cold. Invisible hands pushed his hair out of his face. Draco shuddered, slightly afraid yet...intrigued.

**Who is this person?** A finger -or was it their thumb? - gently stroked his cheek, before his lips were taken in a passionate kiss. Draco felt his knees go weak and all the bitter resentment and loathing he had built up disappeared, leaving only the feeling of the world being turned upside down. He felt as though he were floating. He trembled beneath the touch of a hand gliding over his skin, and tried to suppress a moan that was threatening to escape his throat. 

His lips parted, and a tongue darted into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Draco raised his arms up, only to drop them again, realizing he didn't know where to put them on this invisible being. He was drawn closer however, as though this maddening person knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted contact; he wanted to be as close as possible to the person who had turned his legs to jelly. Nothing else was important to him but the touch of this person. The cold of the lockers vanished as a heat started to rise up within him, and he let a gasp shudder through him, as it got hotter and hotter. Something clanged to the floor between the two, and the contact was hesitantly broken. A curse was muttered as Draco's starry eyed vision slowly drew itself back to reality. He gazed down at his feet, where the sound had come from, and instantly froze. There, lying at his feet, was a black leather-bound book; his diary. He began to shiver uncontrollably, and heard a scuffling from right in front of him. Harry Potter's head emerged quickly, his body following soon after as Draco saw him stumble on something tangled around his foot. An invisibility cloak. "How quaint." He murmured under his breath as Harry dashed out of the room, his face glowing magenta.

***

**Head Girls Log November 2nd **

Today has not been such a great day for me, even though I handed in an extra credit assignment and got 10 points for Gryffindor in transfiguration for knowing how to correctly change a pen into a squid. I asked Ron to see me after my last class in hopes to salvage our relationship, but it was useless. The moment I saw him, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying, and he was fidgeting from foot to foot. He knew just as well as I that we were toeing the line. No words were spoken; it was as if we both just...knew it had to be. Personally, I think Ron took the break-up a little harder then I had expected, but time heals all wounds, as the saying often goes. Maybe he'll be more considerate towards his next girlfriend. The thought of Ron having another girlfriend doesn't do much for me though, I must say. He's my friend, and I do want him to be happy, but I guess I still have feelings for him. Just the thought of his arm around another girl makes something knot inside my stomach, and my lips twist into a frown. Did I do the right thing, I wonder? Even if I didn't, it's too late now to change it. I hated saying "I think we should break up" to him. His face just crumpled. I felt like an evil bitch, but it had to be done didn't it? He didn't speak to me, just walked off...and I haven't seen him since. Around this time of night, Ron would be coming up to my room to say good night...and...No. I can't think of that, I broke up with him, its over. Besides, I don't have time for a relationship at the moment, what with all the Christmas homework being piled up. Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself to ease the pain. But enough of that. Writing about it only makes me remember it more strongly. And this log _isn't_ for petty teenage woes, its for my Head girl duties to be recorded, for meetings to be taken down. Speaking of meetings, the seventh year grouping after the ball went exceptionally well...though Seamus still didn't know what went on until this morning, and I feel a little guilty telling him. His face fell like a stone. And Harry...well, Harry knows what he did. He hasn't spoken about the gathering at all...and he and Ron have been frosty to each other. Well, if Harry was around, I'm sure Ron would stoically ignore him. Secretly, I'm hoping all of Harry's absences have been due to him running off for a secret snog session with Draco. But I know that that would never happen; I've seen Draco in the halls and he's always alone. And he looks angry. I'm not planning on running into him on my own any time soon. So, pretty much, the whole plan was a flop. I've spoken to Blaise once, and she's determined to get them together still. and I'm a fixture in that plan no matter what. I'm not complaining though, the task is far to much fun. Unfortunately I can't continue this entry, as I have an important meeting with Professor McGonagall in 10 minutes and I can't afford to be late. Signing off **Hermione**

***

_Draco flopped down onto the bench in the changing room, pulling his school robes around him, staring at his diary. Harry had brought it back...and in the most shocking way possible. Draco's cheeks reddened slightly at the memory and he traced his finger over the leather cover of the book. He grabbed his things and quickly stood up, heading out the door of the change room in long strides. Now that he had his book back, he knew exactly what he had to do. _

After slamming the doors of his room and enclosing himself within the confines of his bed draperies, he hurriedly murmured 'lumos' and cast a faint glow around him, so as to see the book. Rolling his wand between his fingers for a moment, he quickly muttered a few well chosen words, placing a homing charm on his diary so he'd be able to know its exact location at anytime. If it was stolen again, which he would make sure it never was but just incase he somehow failed, he'd be able to find it and steal it back in the most efficient way possible. Feeling satisfied with his work, he grabbed a rich brown, eagle-feathered quill and opened his diary lovingly, ready to record his next, largly anticipated and highly confused entry. Only to find, that the next page that was supposed the be blank was filled with hurried scribble. Draco's quill shook in his hand, and he pulled the book closer to read... 

Malfoy...no, Draco;

I just want to tell you that your diary is a very interesting piece of literature to read. Now, there were some questions you wanted answering, so I figured I'd help you out. I guess I'm so "ripped" (as you put it) because I work for the Dursley's all summer long. Nothing to be jealous of, I can assure you. Secondly: I'm sexy? Why, I'm flattered, I honestly didn't know I was, Draco. Maybe its my _scar_. 

_At this point Draco's quill snapped in his hand._

But then, the whole sexy thing is your opinion, isn't it Draco? I'll have to thank you in person some time. Though if you want my opinion, and by your journal entries I can assume that you do, you've been looking far sexier yourself.

_The shards of the quill dropped to the bedspread and Draco hunched closer to the book, almost as if it were Harry himself._

And pertaining to your questions 'What does he do in his free time?'; which is in your September 17th entry, incase you were wondering, I would have thought that would be easy. What does any seventeen-year-old boy do in his free time? Last question for now; "What do I fantasize about and with whom?" Well that's a might personal, but I think you know the answer of the second part after reading my own diary. You. If you want more questions answered, you can come and find me. I'll be waiting in the empty classroom on the fifth floor, at eight pm, the day you get this back. If you're still interested, that is. -Harry 

_Draco stared at the words on the page until they blurred in a mess of black ink before his eyes. Shock swam in his brain, along with odd sensations of hope and longing. Caught in a daze he slowly slid off his silk sheets, landing with a small bump onto the cold stone floor. He lay there for what seemed like an eternity to him before he glanced at his alarm clock and jolted with shock. 7:50pm._

***

**02/11/98** Inner Mirror; Pleased by the turnouts of the After-Ball encounters. The plan went perfectly, judging by how touchy-feely both Draco and Harry became. But I'd be sadly mistaken if I said things went for the better. The two miscreants had a nasty fall apart after their clashing of tongues, according to the walls. Only at Hogwarts would walls have ears...and eyes. If I don't act soon, the two may never get together. All they need is the female touch of sensibility. I'm seeing a vat of jelly and Speedos in their future.

Question is how to ensnare them into this enticing situation? Reverse psychology and a series of misconception spells, naturally. Though a Slytherin's mind may not be the best for this at the moment. Will have to talk to Hermione and drag her into the concoction as well. Hermione and I have become great friends recently. Her break-up with Ron was hard, but somehow I don't think it will last long. They can't seem to keep their eyes off each other. I give it two weeks at the most. I feel the worst for Seamus right now. Who would have thought I'd be sympathizing for a Gryffindor, but he is in a tricky position at the moment. Both him and Ginny found out what happened to him today, and neither is very pleased. I could hear Ginny screaming all the way from the dungeons. That girl's nuts, off balanced. How poor "Sham-sham" (can you believe that nickname?) deals with her is a mystery. Personally I think he's shagging the redhead's brother on the side, but who am I to judge? Only evidence I have on that is seeing the two of them leave the charms classroom looking much worse for wear. Ron looked like he'd just run a marathon, and Seamus had a grin wide enough to dam the Pacific. Of course, none of this will reach Hermione, who's distraught thinking of Ron with another _girl_. Not that she cares to admit it, but I suggested she set him up with someone and she got all flustered. Poor girl needs to get her priorities straight. _**Blaise**_

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Footnotes: We're looking for a beta to eventually help us with the revised version (which we're hoping to submit to FA); just email us if you're willing and able to beta. *cough* We added a bit of Ron/Seamus...because its such a squee-worthy pairing! ^.^ Yesh, another cliffhanger...we're evil!

_Slash co. slashco@mail.nu_


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